Frankie—I really needed a nickname for him because that one sucked—held the door open to the only room on the hotel’s floor. No one to hear me scream. It would have been my best chance to get away except for the line of men in the hallway.

Frankie turned back and gestured for me to walk as two of his guarded hovered at the entryway.

He waved his arm again, doing his own little version of Vanna White. "Cara Mia, your prison cell."

I rolled my eyes ...